


Bowl of Cherries

by KiKi_the_Creator



Category: Love Island (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, au in villa, expands on the short season one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:00:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27311545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiKi_the_Creator/pseuds/KiKi_the_Creator
Summary: Cherry and Sage have hated each other more than anything since the…incident.They’ve been at each other’s throats at every opportunity, to the point that they’re fighting in the bathroom. And, okay, yeah, maybe they don’t hate each other as much as they say they do.
Relationships: Cherry/Main Character (Love Island)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	Bowl of Cherries

**Author's Note:**

> I needed to practice writing, let's say more mature scenes for another fic, and this came about, so enjoy the cursed

It’s all-out war in the Villa as Cherry and Sage unleash their entire artilleries upon one another, guns blazing as they stand in the middle of the battlefield: the empty bathroom.

“I cannot believe you!”

“I did nothing wrong!”

“You did everything wrong!”

“Why am I the only one to blame?!”

“You aren’t, you just won’t own up to it!”

“Own up to what?”

“To being a bitch!”

“Oh, like you’ve never done something stupid?!”

“So you finally admit it was intentional?!”

“No! It was an accident!”

“You can’t accidentally kiss someone like that!”

“How would you know?!”

“Your tongue was down his throat!”

“It was an accident!”

“Bull!”

“Why do you even care? You barely know him!”

“Why do you care so much about being innocent? You barely know him!”

“I know myself and I know it was an accident!”

“Well, then, Cherry, would you please enlighten me as to how you ‘accidentally’ make out with someone?!”

“Oh my god! Would you just let it go?!”

“It was two days ago! I’m not about to let it go already! Not when you screwed me over like that! I thought we were almost friends!”

Cherry goes quiet, her eyes digging into Sage’s as her jaw snaps shut, nostrils flared in anger and icy eyes glowing in the dim lighting of the bathroom battlefield. The air’s still, the other Islanders no doubt aware that the screaming has stopped, but Cherry doesn’t care about them. All she cares about right now is figuring out when exactly her heart started hammering in her chest and her breathing got so heavy as it cycles through her lungs.

Sage’s own voice has fallen away as she meets Cherry’s piercing blue eyes, waves of fury flowing off her body as she stands her ground, daring Cherry to do one more thing. Daring those stupidly nice lips to utter one more fucking word. Daring those stunning, hypnotically blue eyes to move in one more fucking roll. Daring the obnoxiously gorgeous girl in front of her to make one more fucking move. Daring Cherry to make her pulse throb in every part of her body and her breath ragged one more fucking time.

Sage pounces, gripping the back of Cherry’s neck and crashing their lips together, her fingers slipping into the red hair at the base of Cherry’s skull as she walks her backwards, leading her until she hits the sink. Cherry gasps into her mouth, but it’s soon followed by a muffled groan as Sage’s tongue slips between her parted lips, colliding with her own.

Cherry’s slender fingers slide into Sage’s hair, cupping the back of her head and gripping tresses tight as Sage grabs her hips, their tongues swirling together. Cherry’s lower back presses further into the counter behind her as they lean together, their bodies mingling as the small gap between them closes. Sage’s arms slip around Cherry and she pushes forward even more, one hand propping herself up on the sink’s counter.

“Alright, who killed who?” Tim’s voice rings in their ears from outside the bathroom, an echo in the large room that seeps into their bones mercilessly, a hammer crashing the moment and shattering it like glass.

They bolt apart, Sage nearly jumping out of her skin as she scrambles to put as much space between herself and Cherry as possible, darting across the open space of the room, almost slipping on the tile beneath her feet until she can catch her balance, skidding to a stop. Cherry’s cheeks are flushed red and splotchy as she steps away from the sink, but her face is stone when Tim and Jake enter together, effectively crushing the shards that remained into dust.

Cherry doesn’t give a single hint of their compromising position from only a moment before, her arms crossed over her chest as her hip juts to the side, a perfect picture of anything and everything but a heated bathroom makeout. The same can’t be said for Sage, who’s foot is nervously tapping as she combs her fingers through her hair to fix the wild mess Cherry’s hands turned it into, feigning frustration with a roll of her eyes directed at Cherry, even if it was meant for the boys. 

Jake steps across the room to Sage, gently placing a hand on her shoulder, squeezing tight and throwing an apologetic glance to Cherry, who’s still standing in front of the sink with a frown plastered across her face. Jake carefully begins leading Sage out of the bathroom, rubbing her shoulder comfortingly, Tim patting her on the back with an attempt at something soothing before he turns from the doorway, striding away without a care in the world.

Sage glances back at those stupidly chilling eyes right before turning the corner, just to find Cherry cheekily blowing her a kiss, with a wink to top it off. Sage grits her teeth, forcing her eyes forward again as Jake leads her to the dressing room, his hand never straying from her shoulder. 

As soon as they step into the room, she huffs, slipping out of his grasp and starts scavenging for pyjamas to wear for the night. She finds them tossed across the room and turns around, just enough to catch sight of her reflection in the shining mirror. She spots red smeared across her lips, lipstick she doesn’t own staining her skin. Her eyes bug out of her head as she rushes to wipe it off, nearly sprinting across the room for a makeup wipe as she silently prays the boys are too oblivious to notice.

\---

Sage is slumped on a sun lounger, twisting incessantly as she tries to get comfortable on the cushion sitting beneath her. She writhes and turns from side to side, testing every position imaginable until she huffs, giving up and flopping back against the lounger, finally just letting the sun soak her skin, with sunglasses perched on her nose to block out the harsh rays.

Her eyes snap open and her upper body lurches forward as the muscles in her stomach twitch involuntarily, rolling beneath her skin. Her eyes land on a smirking Cherry hovering over the edge of the lounger, trailing a long, manicured nail up Sage’s abdomen, her skin exposed in a checkered bikini. Sage huffs and rolls her eyes, letting her body fall back to the lounger without care, “What, Cherry?” she groans.

The woman in question’s smirk grows to an enormous size, and she steps back, settling on the lounger next to Sage and curling her legs to the side of her. She faces Sage directly, those long, manicured nails drumming on her knee as she holds herself up with her other hand, “Just thought you might want to talk about last night,” she answers coolly.

“What about?” Sage is cautious, wary of Cherry’s intentions under the blistering sun, her brows furrowing together tight as she keeps her body directed to the sky, avoiding meeting the freezing blue staring at her.

Cherry rolls her eyes in their sockets, “Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that you left with my lipstick all over you,” she acts as if she’s exasperated with Sage’s caution, but her smirk slides back into place and a teasing lilt squirms its way into her voice before she even finishes her sentence.

“So?” Sage answers sharply, her tongue a blade in her mouth as she fights every cell in her body begging her to jump in the direction of bright red lipstick again.

Cherry huffs, rolling her eyes once more, “So…” she drawls impatiently. She sucks in a deep breath before asking the question that’s been rattling around both of their minds since the night before, “You wanna do it again?” she asks, her voice softer now, keeping this moment private between them.

Sage’s eyes flick over to her, her body turns on its side to inspect her. Cherry’s watching her carefully, a perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised in question, the tips of her fingers nervously tapping her folded thigh. Her lips are quirked skywards as she cocks her head expectantly.

“Do _you_ wanna do it again?” Sage’s eyes meet haunting ice from between her lashes and the top of her dipped sunglasses, her face down as the oversized glasses slip down the bridge of her nose.

Cherry slides off the lounger she was curled up on, stepping closer and dropping her hands to Sage’s chair, leaning close, close enough that her breath brushes Sage’s lips, “Meet me on the terrace at ten and find out,” she whispers, her eyes icicles stabbing into Sage’s as the words leave her bright, impossibly red lips. They’re a private invitation to indulge their mutual curiosities and desires, a secret between them in this heated moment. 

And with that simultaneous promise and secret, she turns and saunters off, her wide hips swaying from side to side and her vibrant hair flowing like a fiery, burning waterfall down her bare back, only a bikini strap obscuring her pale skin.

\---

Sage does exactly as requested, sneaking up to the terrace as the Islanders chat on the lawn around ten o’clock, the sun having set long ago. She slips away when Tim and Mason steal the Islanders’ attention, the former prattling on about Spanish architecture until the latter interrupts, tossing the smaller lad in the deep end of the pool and laughing hysterically.

She steps onto the rooftop escape warily, immediately finding Cherry already cozy with a bottle of wine and glasses she nicked from the kitchen. She grins across the terrace, “You came,” she comments, not moving from her seat.

“Mmhmm,” Sage hums with a nod, leaning against the door frame and crossing her arms to watch Cherry swirl her dark red wine in its glass, the edges of the waves lapping at the rim of the glass gently.

“Are you actually coming over?” Cherry asks from her slouched position, the miniature maroon hurricane still spinning softly.

Sage delicately lifts an eyebrow, “Should I?” she hums, raising a hand and tapping her chin thoughtfully, her lips pursed as she stares into the dark sky.

Cherry rolls her eyes, huffing quietly as she rises from her position, leaning forward and grabbing the second glass of wine. She swirls another hurricane, hunched forward and arm outstretched as she looks at Sage expectantly. 

Sage relents, pushing off the door frame and striding across the terrace, her steps growing more and more wary as she gets closer. She drops onto the cushions beside Cherry, with plenty of space to separate them. Cherry passes her the glass of wine, their fingers brushing against one another as Sage’s outstretched hand retracts.

Sage sips the dark liquid, letting it flood her taste buds like a natural disaster. Cherry does the same, bringing the glass to her stained lips. She lets it fall to her lap, her arms draping across crossed legs. “I’m a little surprised that you showed,” Cherry admits, watching Sage quizzically as she settles further into the cushions behind her.

“Yeah, well…” Sage shrugs, her own wine lowering into her lap, “Curiosity killed the cat and all that.”

Cherry grins devilishly, a spark illuminating her frost-bitten eyes, “Lucky for you, you’re not a cat.”

“Otherwise I’d be dead?” Sage’s lips quirk up, her eyebrows rising with them as she meets Cherry’s piercing eyes, confidently this time.

Cherry shrugs, “No way to know. But…” she smirks, “Now that you are here,” she slides closer, trailing a nail down Sage’s bicep flirtatiously, “How about we do what you came here for?”

Sage raises an eyebrow, coyly drinking her wine with a slight smile. She pops her lips as she pulls the glass away, “Yeah, no.” Cherry’s brows knit together in surprise and confusion. “Takes more than a drink to get in my pants, hun.”

Cherry laughs, her previous concern falling away as Sage chuckles lightly beside her for a beat, her guard slowly lowering. “Okay, fair,” she says after the laughter subsides. “Does it take two, or…?” she winks.

Now it’s Sage’s turn to laugh, the dark liquid in her glass lapping at the sides as her arm quivers. She catches her breath with a grin, “I’m a… let’s say fifth date kind of gal,” she sips her drink, her smile never faltering.

Cherry’s lips twist as she falls back in her seat, leering at the woman next to her from under her lashes, inspecting every centimetre of her face, searching for a gap in her armor to attack. “Are you sure I can’t speed the process up?” she hums, low in her throat, batting her eyelashes for extra effect.

Sage meets her gaze, “Nope,” voice entirely steady as she stands her ground, stone clashing against stone on the dimly lit terrace.

Cherry scowls from beneath long lashes before relenting with a groan, “Fine. But does this at least count as a date?” she inquires, falling deeper into cushions.

Sage’s lips twist in thought, her head cocking and nails tapping her glass. She drops her head to meet an arctic chill head on, “Okay. Sure, since it's the Villa. But you have to wow me if you want a second,” she smirks.

“Deal,” Cherry’s own lips quirk in a smirk as she sticks a hand out, an invitation, a promise, a truce. Sage claps her hand in Cherry’s, shaking enthusiastically before the pair erupt into giggles, forcing their voices low to keep out of the Islander’s earshot.

The banter flows easily the rest of the night, incessant teasing flowing between the two as the wine bottle drains, refill after refill assisting the flow of conversation. Until a lull halts them, the waterfall of words dripping to a stop as they meet each other’s gazes. “So…” Cherry prompts, “Was this a good first date?”

Sage laughs, sipping the last of her glass with a coy smile, “Not the worst, I suppose.”

Cherry grins in triumph, downing the last of her drink before reaching forward to set down her empty wine glass. She sits back into the cushions, “Does that mean I get a kiss good night?” she teases with a raise of her eyebrows. She settles close to Sage, close enough to feel her body heat. 

Sage takes the overly obvious hint, dropping her own glass beside Cherry’s with the lipstick stain, before falling back, her arm snaking behind Cherry’s shoulders. “Depends. Are you going to take it?”

Cherry darts forward, their lips locking as her hands rise to cup Sage’s cheeks, pulling her closer on the bench. Sage’s hands fall to her hips, fingers pressing into the exposed sliver of skin between Cherry’s top and her trousers. Their tongues meet, sparring in their mouths as Cherry slowly falls back, dragging Sage with her with palms cradling a soft jawline.

Her back hits the cushion, Sage tangling their lower bodies together and using her forearms to hold herself up. Her lips stray from Cherry’s, pressing featherlight kisses to a ghostly face, tracing cheekbones and a sharp jaw. She trails down her neck, a hand straying to the body beneath her and gripping a hip tight, the heat of her palm soaking through the fabric of Cherry’s clothes. She rolls her hips against Cherry, flame-red hair falling back as she arches up into Sage with a barely suppressed melody escaping her throat.

She grips Cherry’s thigh, hoisting her leg up above her hip as her own thigh slips further between Cherry’s legs. She rolls her hips against Cherry again, eliciting an unstoppable groan as she sucks at Cherry’s pulse point, teeth scraping against pale, tender skin.

Cherry’s hand pulls at her hair, her body arching into Sage as her carefully manicured nails dig into the skin beneath her fingers. Sage nips and sucks at her neck, just soft enough to not leave a mark, as her hands slip under Cherry’s top, fingers lightly grazing Cherry’s ribs. Her lips move back to Cherry’s, stealing her bottom lip between her teeth, biting down and rolling her hips again, another sound escaping from deep within Cherry’s throat, her hands pulling at Sage’s sides to bring her closer.

Sage breaks the kiss, pulling back to look down at Cherry with a smirk, her eyes dark as she takes in Cherry’s dilated pupils as they obscure the icy blue irises surrounding them. Cherry’s lips are red and parted as she breathes heavily, her cheeks flushed as she scans Sage’s face, her hands still resting on Sage’s ribs, thumbs brushing below her bra.

“Good night,” Sage breaks the relative quiet of the terrace, untangling her limbs from Cherry’s and pulling away, standing up and dusting herself off carefully. She fixes her ponytail, combing her fingers through the tips as she walks off, wiping her lips as she steps off the terrace and disappears inside.

Cherry stares after her, jaw dropped as she props herself up on her elbows, watching long after Sage retreats into the Villa, surprised, and honestly, pretty frustrated that she’s been played so easily. That’s her move, teasing and flirting incessantly until she holds the power.

She listens to the others messing around on the lawn, their laughter and banter echoing up to her until she can eventually drag herself from the roof, striding inside in the direction of the dressing room. She doesn’t find anyone nearby, and, once she steps inside, she spots Sage standing in front of her mirror, already dressed in cozy pyjamas.

Cherry smirks, stalking behind her as quietly as she can manage until Sage is within reach, pouncing from behind and gripping her hips to whirl her around. She pins her against the counter with her body weight, pressing their bodies together and connecting her lips to Sage’s ferociously.

Her tongue swipes against Sage’s lower lip, working to tear it apart from its partner as her eyes fall shut, her hands rising along Sage’s sides. Their legs tangle as Sage’s hands rise to cup her face, thumbs brushing lightly. But Sage doesn’t let Cherry’s tongue slip past her soft lips, pulling back before she gets a chance. 

She looks down at Cherry’s darkened eyes with a smirk of her own, Cherry’s now long gone, “I thought I said good night,” she hums from deep in her throat, Cherry’s stomach swirling at the note.

Cherry leers up at Sage, her irises obscured by dilated pupils, ice overflowing with want as she meets Sage’s gaze, finding a teasing glint held within her own eyes. Her fingers gently pry at Cherry’s tight grip on the counter behind her, her hands having fallen from Sage’s waist to steady herself as the moment fell away before her eyes. 

Cherry gives in, releasing her hold on the counter and letting Sage slip from between her arms with a defeated sigh. But before she can watch that infuriating smirk slip out of the room, Sage pecks her on the cheek, the pad of her thumb skating along the other, with a self-satisfied smile on her lips as she disappears out the door.

\---

Tim’s performing some sort of standup show for the Islanders tonight, rattling off joke after joke, laughs spilling out at both the good and bad ones. Sage chuckles along, sitting next to Talia and Jen on bean bags to watch the show.

“Now, what’s the deal with airplane food?” Tim asks his audience, popping a goofy stance and curling his lips in an awkward smirk. 

“Booo!” Talia calls from beside Sage, slouched in her bean bag with her palms cupped around her mouth, “Joke thief!”

Tim scowls at her, “Parallel thinking! Parallel thinking!” he shouts, the Islanders erupting into laughter as the pair carry on, Talia heckling him at every opportunity.

Sage sinks into her bean bag with a smile, watching the antics contentedly, pleased with the way the day’s turned out. She glances around the group, bright faces and drinks in hand as they enjoy the show. Except for one Islander, one Islander with fire-red hair that appears to be missing.

Sage’s brow furrows, her gaze skipping around the lawn in search of the missing woman, surprised to see her and only her missing. Until she spots her in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a soft smile on her lips. Her eyes connect with Sage’s, a smirk lifting one corner of her mouth. She raises an eyebrow, jerking her head backwards in invitation, before standing straight and striding further inside.

The standup show is captivating enough that no one else has noticed Cherry or her absence except for Sage, all eyes on Tim as he runs through every bit he knows. Sage sighs, downs the last of her drink, and stands, barely noticed in the back of the group as she turns to the kitchen.

“Where are you going, babes?” Jen’s voice floats through the air, softer than Talia’s heckles but loud enough to reach Sage.

She turns, plastering on a grin, “Just getting a refill,” a wiggles her empty glass in the air. It appeases Jen, the blonde smiling in understanding before she turns back to watch Tim rant about a neighbor he once had.

Sage breathes a sigh of relief, making her way to the Villa without further intervention, and mixes herself another fruity cocktail, sipping as she follows Cherry’s path. She steps onto the terrace for the second night in a row, finding Cherry cozy in the cushions again, her legs crossed before her, a hurricane in her cup.

Sage drops beside her, pulling her legs up to fold them in the space separating her from Cherry and sipping her drink carefully. Cherry twists in her seat, keeping her legs crossed as she leans forward, drink in hand, “Second date?”

Sage’s shoulders lift in a small shrug, “If we’ve got time,” she plays with the straw in her cup absentmindedly, eyes on Cherry.

Frozen eyes spilt from hers, her body raising up to glance over the ledge to the standup down below, falling back to the cushions with a grin, “I think we’ve got time.”

And they do. None of the Islanders seem to notice either of their absences, not when Tim starts attempting handstands and cartwheels as he runs out of jokes, flailing around the lawn until Jake calls the show off, the Islanders splitting up to chat amongst themselves.

Cherry and Sage chat, the distance between them shrinking smaller and smaller until Cherry’s nearly curled into Sage’s side, their eyes on the stars and their heads fallen back on the ledge of the terrace. She turns to face Sage, ice inspecting the peaks and valleys of her profile intently, “Did I wow you enough for a third date?” she asks softly, words now a rare occurrence between them.

Sage chuckles lightly, glancing at Cherry out of the corner of her eye, “I wouldn’t say you _wow_ ed me…” Cherry pokes her in the ribs, prompting further laughter, “But I guess we can have another,” she relents, smiling to the stars.

A victorious hum escapes Cherry’s throat as she sinks deeper into the cushions enveloping her, red hair lightly brushing Sage’s shoulder as they watch the constellations together, flirtations and unabashed advances from Cherry occasionally breaking the quiet.

\---

It’s a thankfully lazy day in the Villa, with all the Islanders still sleeping off the many drinks from the night before and avoiding the blinding sunlight of the lawn. Well, all except for Sage and Cherry. 

“Don’t complain! At least I can cook _something,_ ” Sage chides as she folds an omelette at the stovetop.

“I’m not complaining, I’m just asking why the only breakfast you can make is all _eggs,_ ” Cherry’s face contorts in disgust from the counter, watching Sage intently and swirling a hurricane, orange juice this morning.

Sage huffs, flicking off the stove and turning around to face Cherry, “It’s not the only thing I can make, it’s the only thing I can make without a recipe!” Her arms cross over her chest as she leans against the counter defiantly. “And I don’t see you whipping up a feast,” she raises her eyebrows in a challenge.

Cherry’s lips twist as her cold gaze meets Sage’s, “Fine,” she concedes, dropping her hurricane to the counter with a clink.

A grin breaks across Sage’s lips as she spins around, setting down a plate and loading it with her finished product. She grabs her own plate with her free hand, glancing back at Cherry and jerking her head in the direction of the lawn. Cherry nods, grabbing her stilled hurricane and a glass for Sage.

They settle on a daybed, passing a plate and orange juice between them as they get comfortable. Cherry takes a bite of her omelette, her features contorting as Sage watches expectantly, “Well…?” she prompts. Cherry swallows, frowning harshly and murmurs something too soft to hear. A grin quirks Sage’s lips as she leans forward, “What was that?”

“...it’s really good,” she mutters under her breath, downing some of her hurricane.

Sage beams proudly, “Told you!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cherry mumbles, cutting another piece and stuffing it in her mouth. 

The conversation through breakfast is slow, minimal as Cherry demolishes the omelette she wasn’t expecting to enjoy and Sage privately laughs every time she cuts off a massive bite or has to finish chewing to get her words out.

They finish breakfast without interruption, managing their incessant banter and Cherry’s unapologetic flirting without even a glimpse of the other Islanders, “They must’ve gone harder than I thought last night,” Sage hums as she drops the plates in the sink, Cherry leaning against the counter to her side.

She hums in agreement, tracing a nail along Sage’s arm, “So, does that mean we can…?” she looks to Sage expectantly from under her lashes.

Sage’s eyebrow cocks as she glances out the corner of her eye, “Fifth date, remember?”

Cherry rolls her eyes, “Yeah, I know. But… Wait does this count as our third?” Her hand drops to her side as chilly eyes meet Sage’s quizzically.

“Sure,” Sage shrugs, turning away from the sink and stepping past Cherry to move further into the Villa.

Cherry’s hand darts out, grabbing Sage’s and yanking her back, cupping her cheek and meeting their lips. Sage’s hand slips from her own, grabbing her hips and pressing her back into the kitchen counter, one hand slipping lower and fingers kneading her thigh as one rises to hold her waist. Cherry’s own hands weave in her hair, holding her close as tresses slip through the gaps in her fingers.

Cherry groans into her mouth as Sage presses her against the counter, her knee slipping between Cherry’s thighs as she takes her bottom lip in her mouth. Cherry’s hands pull at her hair until her lips detach from hers and migrate to her neck, sucking and nipping at the tender skin, one hand falling from Sage’s hair in order for Cherry to keep herself from sprawling on the granite.

Sage trails kisses down the expanse of her neck, Cherry’s head thrown back to allow her access to even more skin. Her lips trail down the crook of her neck and along her bare shoulder, only a tank top strap covering her skin. She presses kisses to every available centimetre, her teeth grazing the softest parts until she reaches the swell of Cherry’s chest, sucking hard at the barely exposed skin.

She breaks her hold on the skin as it darkens and purples, leaving a mark easy enough to hide, and trails back up the slope of Cherry’s neck, along her harsh jawline, and eventually back to her mouth. Cherry’s tongue darts through her parted lips, sloshing and swirling with Sage’s, a different kind of hurricane, one that makes her dizzier and dizzier with each whirl.

Sage pulls back, little enough for Cherry’s lips to chase her, keeping them locked together as a hand cups her ribs, another rising from the counter to cup her head, trapping her in the kiss. But Sage still breaks it, resting her forehead on Cherry’s, “I’m not getting caught again,” she breathes against Cherry’s lips.

Cherry groans in frustration, her hand falling from Sage’s hair and crossing with her other over her chest, her bottom lip jutting out in a pout. Sage grins at her amusedly, their hips still pressed together and minimal space separating their upper bodies, “Fifth date,” Sage hums, tapping her nose as she steps away, the air cold as it fills the space between them.

\---

“So this is our fourth date, right?” Cherry asks from beside Sage, her fingers combing through the latter’s hair.

Sage murmurs a response, the sky dark above them, sparkled with stars and moonlight glinting through the night. They’ve been on the roof for longer than either of them know at this point, the Villa mostly quiet as they chat softly. 

“I guess so. Why do you always have to ask?” Sage’s voice is soft, her head in Cherry’s lap as pale fingers rake through her hair to quiet the headache already splitting Sage’s skull. The Islanders had been drinking and celebrating Reese’s arrival, loud chatter spilling across the lawn, and the wine bottle Cherry had nicked for the pair was emptied long ago, enough alcohol to turn her brain into mush.

“Oh, I dunno,” she exhales, eyes trained on Sage’s shut eyelids as a smirk slowly grows. “Maybe because on our next date…” she trails off, fingers slipping from tresses and tracing the curves of Sage’s side, “Things get a lot more fun,” her voice husks, her mouth dipped to Sage’s ear.

A shiver runs down Sage’s spine, even with Cherry’s body heat blocking out the night’s chill. She taps her nails along Cherry’s knee, a thoughtful hum reverberating in her throat as she teases, “Do they now?”

“They do,” Cherry’s lips brush her ear, her fingers picking at the hem of Sage’s dress lightly, delicately pushing it up her thigh a centimetre or two in challenge.

Sage’s fingers halt their tapping, her hand falling down to grip Cherry’s on her thigh, pulling it back up her body as Cherry laces their fingers together, “It’s not the fifth yet,” she releases her hold, her hand falling to her chest as she sinks deeper into Cherry’s lap, pale fingers resuming their previous task as a silence settles around them. It’s a pleasant silence, a contented silence, a silence that isn’t broken until a shout echoes beneath them, a frustrating reminder that more than the terrace exists, that they have partners to get back to and appearances to uphold.

Sage sits up with a groan, rubbing at her eyes as Cherry stands with a sigh, grabbing the empty wine bottle and a glass with red stained on the rim, “I’ll go first, okay?” A delicate nail scratches below Sage’s chin, urging a response even with closed eyelids.

Sage nods in acknowledgement, her eyes shut tight as her head falls to her hands, her skull already throbbing again. She listens to the tell-tale signs of Cherry exiting the terrace, her quiet retreating footsteps as too-high heels collide with the ground and the clinking of the glass and bottle. She slumps to the side, back into the cushions with a sigh, already missing the warmth that had been all-consuming just a moment before.

\---

It’s an early morning. Early enough that Sage was able to sneak up to the terrace without encountering anyone. She’s nestled into the cushions, watching the scenery surrounding the estate and eating melon. The Villa’s quiet beneath her, the sun just beginning to rise above the horizon to light the world in dozens of picturesque watercolours.

She twirls a fork between her fingers, her chin resting on her arm settled on the ledge of the roof. She woke up before the sun had even risen and couldn’t force herself back to sleep, even after another late night with Cherry.

God, what a weird sentence. She’s been spending time with Cherry and not _totally_ hating it. God, that’s so weird.

Sage stabs a chunk of melon, stuffs it in her mouth, and stares out at the hills, her brows furrowed tight. Her free hand taps an erratic rhythm on the ledge, random accents and staccatos filling the still air.

The door opens, Cherry stepping out in her pyjamas with that smirk that she knows still annoys Sage and strides over, swaying her hips dramatically. Sage glances over for only a beat, stabbing another piece of melon and scraping her teeth along the metal.

Cherry makes a beeline for her, stealing Sage’s bowl of melon and fork and setting them down out of reach. She throws a leg over Sage’s thighs, settling on top of her and straddling her hips. She leans forward and cups the back of Sage’s head, crashing their lips fiercely.

Sage’s hands rise to grip her hips, her lips parting for Cherry’s tongue to slip inside her mouth. She tastes like mint toothpaste, her breath fresh as it falls into Sage’s mouth. Her hands break from Sage’s hair, falling to her stomach and fumbling with the hem of her shirt. She pushes it up her torso until Sage breaks the kiss, leaning back as Cherry’s fingers skim over her bra, “Cherry,” she murmurs breathlessly against the lips only a millimetre from hers.

“Hmm?” she hums, palms spread along the upper parts of Sage’s ribs, thumbs slipping beneath her bra. Her head dips down, lips pressing against Sage’s abdomen, butterfly kisses trailing up her stomach.

“What are you doing?” Sage gasps, her body arching against the woman on top of her. Cherry’s lips continue, tracing the curve of Sage’s stomach. Sage pulls her hands from Cherry’s hips, cupping her jaw and gently pulling her blue eyes to meet her own gaze. “What are you doing?” she repeats with Cherry’s eyes finally on her.

“Fifth date,” she exhales, tickling Sage’s skin as her lips fall back to exposed skin and resume their task, now trailing lower, towards Sage’s waistband.

Sage props herself up on her elbows, her torso following and the hem of her shirt falling halfway down her abdomen, “Cherry,” she repeats. Ocean eyes glance up to her, pale, slender fingers stopping on her hip above her shorts. “I’m not - This isn’t a fifth date, it’s, like, six in the morning.”

Cherry hums in agreement, slowly sliding up Sage’s body and meeting their lips again, sweeter this time, as her fingers dip below a waistband. “And everyone’s asleep,” she whispers against Sage’s lips.

“Cherry,” Sage repeats once more, her voice stern as she meets cool eyes, her own shining with earnestness as her hands rise, settling along Cherry’s cheeks to keep blue on her. "I'm not having sex with you at six in the fucking morning on the terrace."

Cherry’s lips twist in a frown, her fingers retreating as she stares into the eyes across from her. Her face settles into stone as she inspects every pore on Sage’s face. “Fine,” she groans, collapsing atop Sage, her head landing above her navel.

Sage falls back against the ledge with a relieved sigh, her torso lifting Cherry's head gently with each breath, her eyes staring up at slowly shifting clouds. Cherry’s fingers skate along her hip, playing their own random rhythm as they circle her hip bone. A featherlight kiss meets her still bare skin, warmth seeping into her skin and blocking out the chill morning air. “Cherry,” she chides exasperatedly.

The woman in question huffs, her head falling back to Sage and cheek pressing into her stomach as she pouts, staring into the terrace wall. Sage glances down at her after a still, silent moment, finding a fire-red strand of hair has fallen along her face. She reaches out, tucking it behind her ear before her fingers find another, and she slips it behind her ear, too.

She turns back to the sky that looks like a painting come to life, her hand still in Cherry’s hair, fingers slowly combing through it as she feels Cherry’s exhales along her skin, perfectly in time with the steady rhythm of Sage’s lungs in the perfectly early morning, a private, secretive morning between them and only them.

\---

Sage walks into the lounge, slumping onto the sofa and kicking her feet up next to Jake, with Levi across from her and Reese and Cherry seated in the middle of the sofa together. Levi’s laughter rings from their previous conversation, “Mate, can you even imagine Tim as a stripper?” 

Jake shakes his head, smiling along, “And on a tour bus, as well. Imagine seeing that go by as you waited at the bus stop.” The Islanders laugh, Sage chuckling quietly as she picks at her nail distractedly, watching the mint green chip away in tiny fractures.

As the laughter subsides, Cherry chimes in eagerly, leaning forward from the cushions behind her, “I don’t even think that was the biggest secret to come out.”

“No?” Reese questions. “Alright, what do you think… Sage?” He lands on her with a conspiratorial glint in his eye, alarm bells ringing in her ears as she meets that gaze, “Whose secret was best?” He props his elbows on his knees, leaning forward and smirking.

She meets his eyes with as much confidence as she can muster at that suspicious smirk, dropping her hands back to her lap and plastering on the least-wary smile she can, “Definitely Tim’s. I’ve been wondering how he knows all that stuff about Spain for so long.”

Jake nods knowingly, “Yeah, you weren’t the only one.”

Cherry leans forward even more, stealing the attention back to her, “Sorry, but that’s definitely not as interesting as Miles literally owning a castle,” she adds, her eyes wide in disbelief as they scan around the sofa.

Reese’s lips twist, his previous antics seemingly forgotten for a brief second, “How big do you think it is?”

“Mate, it’s a castle,” Levi chuckles, “I bet it’s massive.”

Cherry’s head dips down, fire curtaining her face as she fidgets with the knot on her bikini bottom, “I’ll be honest, I think he’s kind of a tool… And I never thought I’d be the type to say this… But a part of me was wishing I’d made a move on him when I heard that.”

“You’re not the only one,” Jake laughs, earning a soft smile from between fiery streams.

Reese squints at them, his eyes darting between them and even in Sage’s direction, “You guys would couple up with him just cos he’s rich?”

Sage laughs, eyes back on the cracking mint nail polish, “He is _so_ not worth it, trust me. Maybe if it was someone else, sure,” she shrugs, “but he’s near impossible to get on with. I don’t think I could hack being his girlfriend just for the money.”

Cherry gapes for a half second before snapping her jaw shut, “I’d almost forgotten you two were coupled up in the beginning. It seems like so long ago,” she gets a distant look in her eye as she stares out into space, her mind whirring.

“I know. I might have forgotten about it too… But that secret about Rohan and Erikah in the game earlier made me think back.” A finger rises to scratch at her nose. She chuckles softly, “It’s funny how much has changed since then,” she dips her head to hide the smirk that’s begun to split her lips.

Reese pounces on the topic like a predator on prey, finally finding an opportunity to test his theory, “Tell me about it. For me, coming in later and finding out these secrets is so strange cos nothing is like how you see it on telly. It’s like,” he rubs his nose, “they didn’t mention the whole Cherry and Sage thing, but everyone knows it back home,” he glances between the women in question, waiting for some sort of response, some confirmation that he’s not crazy, that the Islanders _do_ know, he just missed the big reveal.

The entire living room grinds to a halt, Jake and Levi looking between Cherry and Sage, with Reese’s stupid, blabbering mouth gaping open in shock. He _really_ thought they knew or something. Sage stares at her nail, entirely frozen as Cherry stares at her instead, ocean eyes hoping for a lifeline, hoping for a save, hoping for her to just _say something._

Sage is always the one that will fight for herself, that can twist anything her way. She’s the one that makes the first move, that stands her ground. She’s the one that knows what to do, knows what she’s doing. She’s the one that makes a plan beforehand, not after she’s already messed up. She's the one that fixes things, and right now really needs a fix.

“What thing?” Levi asks cautiously, eyes narrowed as he searches the two women for an explanation of any kind, carefully scanning Sage’s frozen features and Cherry’s panicked ones.

“Er…” Reese stutters, “I - I shouldn’t have…” he attempts to backpedal.

“No, now you gotta tell us,” Jake answers coldly, his tone a slap to everyone’s faces.

Reese stutters some more, his tongue betraying him and attacking his mouth, “Well, so… they’ve kind of, um… Look, it’s really not my place, yeah? I shouldn’t have - I really shouldn’t’ve, uh…” 

“Just spit it out, Reese!” Jake’s voice is rough, angry as his eyes remain glued to Sage, no doubt worried about the words inside Reese’s mind and all the possibilities within them. 

“They’ve been hooking up,” Reese blurts out, shattering everything that Cherry and Sage have been building, shattering the perfect secret they’d established, shattering those quiet moments on the terrace, when they could sneak away and no one would notice. Shattering _them._

Sage abruptly stands, every cell in her body stiff and every muscle clenched as her eyes finally break from her thumb nail. She turns to the door and leaves the room, not even glancing back as she disappears further into the Villa, away from the shard-coated lounge. 

Cherry’s arctic sea eyes follow her escape, her muscles tense beneath her skin and breath quivering in her lungs as the boys simply gape at her, Reese squirming in his seat to her side. How is _he_ the uncomfortable one here? How is _he_ allowed to be awkward and fidgeting? How is _he_ the victim?! 

This was theirs! It was always just meant to be theirs - their secret, their moments, their… _something_. It was a perfect bubble without the others, without worrying about glances and whispers, without worrying about opinions and chatter, without worrying about anything but each other.

She swallows thickly to bury the lump that’s appeared in her throat and works to slow her pounding, throbbing, aching pulse in her neck, her chest, her head, her everything. She works to steel herself to meet their judgemental gazes, sucking in deep breathes through clenched teeth and tight airways, working to just meet their eyes, as easy as it is. As easy and as simple as it is, something especially so for her: she’s an actress, she can do this, she can pretend and lie, she’s done it a million times before.

But she can’t do it. No deep breaths will work, no quiet moments will help, no thumping heartbeats will quiet, her nerves are still eating her away from the inside out, a parasite feeding on her worst thoughts. And she can’t take it anymore, she has to get it out of her.

She jumps up, rushing out of the room after Sage, scrambling to find any scraps of her as she rounds the corner, scrambling to find anything to cut this damned parasite out of her. But Sage has already disappeared without a trace when Cherry halts in the hallway, eyes wide and panicked at the empty air before her. Sage is already long gone, abandoning Cherry to the wolves without hesitation, without guilt, without anything but self-preservation.

Well, this is just a bowl of cherries, isn’t it?

**Author's Note:**

> I know it ends on a sour note, but I'm not sure if I want to expand on it yet. We'll see


End file.
